Dreams Amidst Flowers
by hllothere
Summary: Six months after Nick loses his battle to cancer, Jeff receives a bouquet of flowers. At first he shrugs it off, but as they keep coming and coming, he can't help but wonder who they're from. Follows Jeff on his road to recovery as he attempts to pick up the pieces of his life. More of a comfort!fic than a death!fic. Oneshot. Un-beta'd so please excuse any mistakes.


The first bouquet arrives on a Wednesday.

Jeff buries his nose in the bright yellow blossoms curiously, wondering as to who would send him flowers and why. There's a small card tucked in between the stems and he reaches down between the velvety petals to pull it out. _"Tulips are your favorite, right? These ones always remind me of you."_

When he looks back up to ask the delivery-man who they're from, he sees the truck driving away, and turns to make his way inside, a soft smile on his face as he ducks his head down to breathe in the sweet smell of tulips.

…

Jeff laughs at the incessant knocking on the door. "Calm down, calm down," he titters, pulling open the door to reveal Trent, one of his best friends since his Warbler days at Dalton.

The brunette grins, "Hey, I had to make sure you knew I was here."

"As if anyone would ever be able to ignore you," he quips, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a smirk.

Trent nods, "True, true." He shuffles around awkwardly for a minute, as though they haven't gone through this every other week for the past six months. "Where do you wanna start?" he asks quietly.

"We haven't touched the office yet," Jeff offers, biting his lip.

He nods slowly, "Alright," he agrees, allowing the blonde to lead the way.

Jeff inhales sharply as he pushes open the door; he hasn't gone in the office –it had been Nick's mostly- in a long time. (Six months, two weeks, and four days, to be exact.) He takes two steps into the room, then turns around, tears welling up in his eyes. "I-I can't do it," he whispers, trying to run, but finding Trent blocking him.

The brunette wraps his arms around him in a tight embrace and they gently rock back and forth 'til Jeff finishes crying, and the blonde's sobs reduce to soft whimpers. Trent pulls back and looks him in the eye. "You can do it, Jeff. You have to. He'd want you to move on."

Jeff feels his eyes watering again. "But what if I don't want to?" he whispers, more to himself than anything else.

Trent swears he can feel his heart breaking.

…

The deliveryman learns not to wait around for Jeff, and instead resorts to setting the flowers on the doorstep for the blonde to find when he finally gets up and answers the door. (It's not Jeff's fault he's lazy)

He hasn't been able to figure out a schedule yet, only that they come every two weeks or so, each time with a different message and arrangement. This time they're foxgloves, the dark pink bells reminiscent of the scarlet blush that used to creep up Nick's cheeks.

Shaking his head of the thought, Jeff opens the small card that's been nestled among the stems. _"For looking at, smelling, or putting on fingers."_

He's confused at that last one, but after a moment the blonde remembers lazy summers spent in the garden with his family. He remembers picking flowers to place in his mother's hair, or behind his ear, and the secretive smile on his grandmother's face when she showed him how to slip a foxglove onto his chubby little finger and tickle his mother while she worked.

Slowly but surely, he reaches a hand out and plucks a blossom from the stem.

…

"C'mon Jeff, give me a chance."

Jeff shakes his head. "I-I'm sorry Sebastian, I can't."

The brunette gives up far too easily; Jeff knows it's mostly out of pity and bites his lip in frustration. He misses Nick, Nick who would tease him to no end or comfort him when he was upset, Nick who wasn't afraid to yell at him or tell him he was being a jerk. Jeff hates it when they treat him like this, like he's a fragile doll capable of being broken.

What they don't realize is that losing Nick already broke him.

…

Jeff twirls the daisy stem in between his fingers, eyes slightly hazy and unfocusing. He's never felt this way before- so useless, so out of place, so…alone.

He thinks that perhaps he should let whoever know that daisies aren't a good idea- they were Nick's favorite flower, and the ones Jeff would always bring to him when he was in the hospital undergoing chemo.

"They brighten my day," Nick used to say, a weak smile on his face, "Just like you."

A spark registers in his mind and he pulls out the card, reading it over once more. _"Hopefully these brighten your day, because you always brighten mine.´_

His mouth falls open then closed because it can't be- it's impossible. _It must be a coincidence_, he tells himself.

Somehow, he's still not 100% convinced.

…

Jeff drags his camera out one night and sits at the kitchen table going through photos. There's so many of him and Nick that he almost pushes it away, but at the same time he can't be bothered to look away.

There's them at graduation- their arms slung about each other and blue gowns paling in contrast to the grins on their faces- pictures from their first road trip- nearly half of them are the side of Nick's face, seeing as he was the unofficial driver- and even their first Christmas as a couple where Jeff had insisted they buy tacky matching sweaters for each other and pose atrociously for every picture.

When he finally finishes looking through the ones on the camera, he pulls out his computer and starts going through the ones on there, his eyes lighting up as he watches memory by memory flash across the screen.

Countless hours later and Jeff notices the sunlight streaming in through the window. He looks up, surprised to see that it's already morning, and closes the laptop slowly, smiling softly at the image of Nick onscreen.

With his camera in hand, he gets up and walks outside. To where- he's not sure- but he's sure it'll make for an adventure.

…

The bright blossoms are a welcome change in the dreary February weather. He sets the vase down in the middle of the kitchen table and checks the leaves carefully for a note, smiling triumphantly when he locates it. _"I hope that these make you smile." _

A soft laugh leaves his mouth, and his eyes widen in surprise. He's not sure which is stranger, the fact that he hasn't laughed in months, or the fact that he just did.

Maybe this is what "moving on" feels like.

…

Jeff takes a deep breath and stares at the entrance to the coffee shop. It was always _their spot_, from when they first graduated from high school, all the way to when they got their first apartment together. It's where Jeff first realized his feelings for the brunette, where they shared their first kiss, and millions of other memories wrapped up in the moments in between.

After losing Nick, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to go back, but here he is, pushing open the door and letting the wave of coffee-filled air overtake him. He smiles at Ryan, the barista, and nods when he asks if he wants his usual.

"Well if it isn't my favorite coffee addict. Y'know I was starting to think you'd disappeared without saying goodbye!" A voice calls from behind the counter.

The blonde smiles, dropping back into the easy routine, "Hey Mimi, good to see ya."

The redhead grins back, then taps Ryan on the shoulder, "This cup's on the house, y'hear? Just cause you've been gone a while doesn't mean anything's changed."

There's more to her words and Jeff knows it, but for now he's content to sink down in one of the old leather chairs by the window and watch the world go by.

After all, life doesn't stop for anybody.

…

Jeff looks down at the doormat and sees the bouquet lying across it. Balancing the grocery bag on one hip, he stoops down to pick them up, running a fingertip reverently over the petals. The lilies are absolutely stunning, as is the babies' breath that is sprinkled in between them.

"_Beautiful, just like you,"_ the card reads.

It's been a long time since anyone's called him beautiful, since anyone's been able to make him feel beautiful the way that Nick did.

Today, he does.

…

Jeff's finally cleaning out the closet. He's put it off as long as could, but with nearly three quarters of a year gone by, the blonde thinks that maybe it's time, that maybe he can do it.

The blonde spends over four hours sifting through clothes- shirts and hats and jeans and ties- drowning in the lingering scent of everything that is- that was- Nick. It's possibly one of the most wonderful and most dreadful things he's ever had to do.

His heart aches every time he stumbles upon certain items- Nick's favorite sweatshirt, the skinny jeans that fit him just right, the shirt he wore on their first date, his Dalton blazer- each evoking a memory of coffee dates and pulling pranks and late nights spent wrapped up in one another.

The blonde sets the skinny jeans, the shirt, the blazer, and a few other articles aside, before he tugs the sweatshirt over his head and surrounds himself in the warmth and scent of Nick's cologne. He shoves his hands in the deep pocket, eyes widening when he hits something.

With trembling fingers, he pulls out a velvet box.

…

"_Dahlias are meant to represent elegance and forever. Jeff, if you're reading this, then I guess it's too late. Just know that you will always be my forever."_

Jeff's had an inkling of an idea, ever since the daisies, but there's an air of finality to the note that he fears it may be the last one. "E-excuse me?" he calls out.

The deliveryman turns around in surprise, "Yeh?"

"The flowers," Jeff blurts, "Who are they from?"

The man chuckles, "You mean they been comin' all this time and you don't even know who's sending 'em?"

He flushes. It's April 16th, his and Nick's anniversary, and he can't help but hope that the message means something.

"Well accordin' to this, it sez these flowers were pre-ordered by a Mr. Nicholas Potter, and arranged to be sent to a Jeffrey Malfoy, twice a month, startin' from last January, until either you stop 'em, or the money runs out."

Jeff's eyes grow wide and his knees threaten to buckle underneath him, because Nick, his Nick, took the time to put aside money for something as trivial as sending flowers, so that Jeff would always feel loved.

He laughs a little as he remembers the day they'd adopted those last names- they were seven and absolutely _obsessed_- and once their parents had bought them robes for Halloween, they'd gone about wearing them well past Christmas, refusing to respond to anything that wasn't "Harry" or "Draco".

Jeff doesn't realize he's crying 'til he hears the deliveryman ask if he's okay, to which he nods. "Thank you," he murmurs. He closes his eyes, reaching up to grasp the white-gold engagement band that hangs around his neck, and imagines that Nick's there with him, their cheeks pressed together and his arms around his waist.

"Thank you for forever."

* * *

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